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<title>Still Just Getting Started (Kinktober Day 5: Boot Worship) by frumious_bandersnatch</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26841367">Still Just Getting Started (Kinktober Day 5: Boot Worship)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumious_bandersnatch/pseuds/frumious_bandersnatch'>frumious_bandersnatch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boot Worship, Dubcon/Noncon, Humiliation, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Sub!Crowley, cumming in pants, self deprecation, slight pet play</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:55:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26841367</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumious_bandersnatch/pseuds/frumious_bandersnatch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You know that season eleven side plot where Lucifer and Crowley were having this massive, power play filled, sexually charged pissing contest? Yeah, that. Enjoy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lucifer/Crowley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Still Just Getting Started (Kinktober Day 5: Boot Worship)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing. This is my first time writing for this kink, so let me know how I did in the comments!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley had always  thought he was a survivor. Always dedicated, always looking for  an up or  an out. But even the strongest wills can be broken. Even the most determined can be strayed from their cause.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know when he’d gone from <em> maybe he’ll slip up </em> to <em> maybe he’ll let me live </em> to <em> maybe if I’m good enough, maybe if I beg pretty enough, maybe, maybe, maybe he’ll reward me. </em></p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know how long it had  been. Knew time was wrong in Hell, knew it  wasn’t a strict decade  to month conversion, knew  when Lucifer  was involved  he  could bend it and twist it and  spin it like a top in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>At some point Lucifer had  taken his  old vessel, left Castiel. Crowley  didn’t know  if that  made it better or worse. On one hand it wasn’t his  friend, if that’s what  he  could  call Castiel, staring down at him every day. On the other Lucifer was so much more cruel now. So much worse without  the  younger angel to temper him. </p><p> </p><p>“Not worthy, I’m not worthy. Master, please.” Crowley murmured. He was prostrate on the floor, forehead and palms pressed against the cold concrete, knees sore and aching. “Please, end me. My pathetic life is a waste, my disobedience foolhardy and misguided. I deserve nothing more than to be trampled underfoot.” All scripted, all told to him so many times he was starting to believe it. Resentment and anger ebbing away, replaced by a cold twisting feeling almost like guilt but worse.</p><p> </p><p>Lucifer chuckled, nudged Crowley’s cheek with the tip of his boot. “Yeah?” Some days he wouldn’t bother. Just let Crowley keep going, spinning in circles and praying to a cruel, exacting god. It was an ego boost, a power trip, arousal and satisfaction.</p><p> </p><p>He tilted Crowley’s chin up, barely moving from his seat, certainly not lowering his gaze to look at the demon. He presented his boot, kit it on the ground, heel planted and toe just barely lifted.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley lifted by then frantically shaking hands to grip the sides- leather, scuffed, but fine. He stooped down further, like he wanted to shrink into the ground and disappear, and then his face hovered above Lucifer’s boot for a few seconds, as if in hesitation.</p><p> </p><p>And then he swiped his tongue across it. Tasted dirt and leather polish and blood. Lucifer hummed, made a soft noise of assent, and then he continued.</p><p> </p><p>Breathing soft words of praise in between licks, until the leather was shining with spit and Lucifer raised his foot so Crowley could start on the sole. Still praising, still praying. English, enochian, infernal, he knew it all, knew how to keep it interesting.</p><p> </p><p>When it was finished he rubbed it dry with the butt of his hand, looked up at Lucifer for approval before he started on the next, and it went much the same. Tongue dragging over smooth leather, eyes slipping shut and hands gripping the sides of the boot, fingers curling in, unclipped nails hovering just above the threshold of scratching or making a mark in the material. He’d learned his lesson the first time.</p><p> </p><p>“Good boy, Crowley. Think you deserve a reward?” Lucifer murmured, disinterested for the most part as he spoke, voice barely focused as he flipped through the soul counts for that February. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s heart practically stopped, and he nodded. Groveled and begged and didn’t care that there were demons in the room, that it was a business meeting, he didn’t care anymore because caring hurt too much.</p><p> </p><p>It was another minute before Lucifer spoke to him directly again. “Then be a good little puppy and hump my leg until you cum, mkay?”  </p><p> </p><p>Crowley did. Put everything into it, until he was panting and groaning and taking all the pleasure he could from the simple action. Until his cock was stiff in his pants and leaking precum from the tip like a faucet because it had been so long since he’d last cum. When he did he cried out weakly, kept himself from making too much noise as he buried his head in Lucifer’s high and tears ere streaming down his face because it was hitting him all at once how pathetic this was, how pathetic he was and how far he’d fallen. </p><p> </p><p>He tried to forget, to ignore it so much and it built and built and built until he couldn’t anymore, until something like this happened and he ended up sobbing silently, prayer abandoned and forgotten as his cum dried in his pants and Lucifer carded cold fingers through his hair and didn’t say a thing.</p><p> </p><p>And they’d do the same thing tomorrow. And the day after that. And then Lucifer was still just getting started.</p>
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